James pulled into the parking lot of the Bel-Air Country Club, the Range Rover's engine sounding quietly as it came to a stop.
The moment he turned off the engine and stepped out, he noticed how packer the lot was, with more cars than he'd ever seen here, even more than during the Chef's Table luncheon or the formal dinner.
From luxury sedans, rare coupes, vintage European classics, to even a few armored SUVs. They all lined the rows like a billionaire's car auction.
James furrowed his brows slightly as he picked up his golf bag from the trunk.
"I didn't think the tournament would pull this kind of crowd," he muttered to himself.
It was a weekend, so that could explain the turnout… but even then, the sheer volume of high-end attendees said otherwise. He couldn't help but feel that something about today was different.
He slung the bag over his shoulder and began walking through the lush stone-lined path that led to the practice range where the tournament was being staged.
